The Humanising Effect of the Well-timed Selfie
I’m posting this photo from an excursion I took in South-West China just yesterday. Before raising my camera, the people on this tourist bus were keeping to themselves. Afterwards, the whole bus erupted into joyful waves and shouts of “hello” in English.
Yes, the timing of this photo coincides with the Chinese government’s belligerent response to Pelosi’s provocative touchdown in Taiwan. Yes, there is a strand of disgusting ugly nationalism that is on the ascendancy in China, just as it is in many other parts of the world. But I’m posting this for the simple purpose to remind everyone that we should never equate a regime to its people. And we should never let the shrill voices of populists and isolationists deafen us to the humanity of others.
For the LinkedIn version, see here.
All the Feline Feels
You may have heard reports that Shanghai has ‘opened up’ following its harsh citywide lockdown. Let me quickly explain what this means.
There is a patchwork quilt of realities. Some lucky people have indeed already received 临时出入证 (temporary exit/entry passes), allowing them to leave their compounds, usually for a short time once a day. Others have been allowed out, only for that permission to be immediately revoked once some unknown local official begins to feel nervous about the optics of people exercising their right to freedom. And for residents whose compounds remain in total lockdown, they have the exotic torture of being congratulated on their freedom while sitting under continued house arrest.
In our case, the local neighbourhood committee has opened the lock on our gate, but has not removed it. So it continues to hang ominously, silently proclaiming: “We can easily lock you up again, whenever we want”. We haven’t received any official passes, so our notion of freedom is entirely synthetic. But we took the chance to take an unofficial walk around the block, and the cat in the window of this local pet-shop sums up our emotional longing all too accurately.
The logical interpretation of an open lock is that it’s a ‘hopeful sign’. Maybe it is, and maybe we will receive our official 临时出入证 soon. With no residents in our compound testing positive for COVID-19 in all 64 days of lockdown, we’ve been conditioned to not seeing any correlation between hopeful signs and happy outcomes. And for the time being, shops, restaurants, and even parks all remain closed. So the best case scenario is that we can visit this cat through the glass again tomorrow. 🐈🪟
For the Instagram version, see here.
For the Facebook version, see here.
For the YouTube version, see here.
For the LinkedIn version, see here.
China as an Overbearing Parent
A few residential compounds have started to open up in Shanghai, and there’s hope that this represents the beginning of the end of this harsh city lockdown. In our case, one of our neighbours has been entrusted with the key to the lock on our gate, and she has started to leave it unlocked at random times of the day. We have no idea how this seemingly arbitrary decision got made, or by whom. But we’re in no mood to enquire; we just want to take a walk around the block.
There’s no thought of celebrating yet, while so many of our friends remain behind closed doors. Besides, the streets remain empty; shops remain closed; and everyone is nervous that the slightest uptick in positive COVID cases may put us all back to square one. And square one is where most of the city still languishes, just by luck of the lockdown lottery.
The two questions we’ve recently been asked the most are: 1) Why is China doing this? And 2) Why would anyone now wish to remain in Shanghai? To answer the first question, I would need to explain how China works, and only an idiot would try to suggest one unifying theory. So here’s mine.
China seriously cares for its people. That’s a fact. But it cares for them as a 1.4 billion collective, not as 1.4 billion individuals. China is an overbearing parent looking after their single child. They only want the best for it. They let it play, albeit under very tight supervision. They tell it what to do, and scold it when it steps out of line. No nuance; no negotiation. Does an overbearing parent always know what’s best for their child? And when other parents offer them unsolicited advice or criticism, does an overbearing parent get offended?
It’s an only child: the child is one; the child is indivisible. The parent does not need to understand each of the 1.4 billion individual cells that constitutes their child. Why would the concept of a cell even occur to them? The same goes for certain clusters of cells, certain organs and systems. If the parent feels that they’re keeping the child in general good health, does it matter to them what a tonsil does? Or a gallbladder, or an endocrine system? So long as China feels that it’s keeping 1.4 billion people in indivisible harmony, then what do the needs of a specific minority group matter? Or a city? Or a functioning system of public discourse? There’s a fundamental disconnect between the pure parental love of the child, and the complicated tangle of biology beneath its skin.
Most people outside of China (and some of us within!) just view the situation from the perspective of the cell. But in making this entirely accurate assessment, we’re also missing half the picture. The cells are also the child is also the cells. So an average individual in China feels both loved and unloved at the same time. Hugged too tight, and heedlessly ignored. Schrödinger was late to the game, the Chinese have understood the paradox of yin and yang for centuries. Today’s China is a mixture of Confucius, Han Feizi and Mao. While from the outside, we only see it through the prism of Beckett, Kafka, and Orwell.
So having lived through China’s recent metaphorical heart attack in Shanghai, we need to turn to the second question: why would anyone who has a choice decide to remain in China?
This is a question that every person must answer individually, so I can only speak for myself. My answer is that cross-cultural experience isn’t just about traveling the world comparing delicious desserts. You can learn more from panic attacks than you can from patisseries. Would I prefer to be eating pear tarts in Paris right now? Oui. But do I also value being able to think like I do, and view the world like I do? And at exactly what point does that privilege come at a price that I’m no longer willing to pay?
Making the decision to stay or leave one place or another is always a question of principle and practicality. When the effects of COVID-19 were ravaging your city, did you break your lease, quit your job, cut ties with your community, and relocate? It would be understandable if you had, but just as understandable if you hadn’t. We won’t stay in China forever; at some point the winds of fate that blew us here will also blow us away. Until then, we’re going to continue making the most out of our time in this land of paradox.
For the Instagram version, see here.
For the Facebook version, see here.
For the LinkedIn version, see here.
Geopolitical Quagmire
We’ve traveled to the North East of China, to the ski resort of Beidahu. Planned weeks ago, it now comes as a welcome distraction from doom-scrolling through news apps.
I have Russian friends and I have Ukrainian friends, and none of them support this war. I have Swiss friends, and I have Turkish friends, and none of them predicted this fleeting moment of unity. I have American friends and Chinese friends, and we can all agree on the need to create the conditions that will force a diplomatic off-ramp.
I’m the son of refugees from the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968. It took over 20 years to even begin untangling that mess. And right now I’m on a ski trip not far from North Korea, another decades-long geopolitical quagmire.
I’m just hoping that we’re not witnessing the birth of yet another one. 🇷🇺🌏🇺🇦
For the Instagram version, see here.
For the Facebook version, see here.
Inconveniently Different
My trip this week is in the contentious region of Xinjiang, which you may have heard about in the news.
I live in China, where it’s not possible to have an open public discussion about these things. But here’s what I will say.
I believe to my core that a society should not be judged on how it treats its majority. That’s actually the easy part. A society should be judged on how it treats those who are most ‘inconveniently different’ to the majority.
Maybe that’s the Aboriginals in Australia; the Roma (gypsies) in Eastern Europe; the Rohingya in Myanmar; the Kurds in Turkey; the list goes on and on, and there’s one in your society too. You could even argue that the Trans Rights and the Black Lives Matter movements belong in this same awkwardly named category.
Please take a moment to think about the most ‘inconveniently different’ person near you. And in the meantime, here’s a photo I took today of a cute Uighur boy playing with a bucket. 👦🏻🪣
For the Instagram version, see here.
For the Facebook version, see here.
Don't Judge a Passport by its Cover
While always mindful of the doors it has opened, I have never defined my identity by the passport I carry. And I’m definitely not going to start now.
Yes, I’ve lived in Asia for 17 years. Yes, my passport has recently changed colour. But the blood that runs through my veins is, and always will be, European.
For the Facebook version, see here.
Brexit Torture
So Brexit day has finally arrived. Bugger.
As the exotic torture of the last few years finally comes to an end, let’s not go into mourning. And let’s not wallow in victimhood. Because... maybe we Brits will all end up being happier.
Yes, as a nation, we’re now one step closer to terminal insignificance. You don’t need to live overseas to be aware of this, although it certainly helps. But here’s the thing: maybe we can fashion ourselves into the funny eccentric uncle of the world. The one who used to be something important, but now enjoys tinkering on the sidelines just trying to be liked. Hell, it works for me! Maybe this is the role that Britain was always destined to play.
So please allow this eccentric uncle to give you some friendly advice. It only works if you are truly resilient. You need to be all the more strong, as you face being undermined by your adversaries and secretly ridiculed by your friends. You can do this, but don’t expect your relationships to ever be the same again.
And while it’s tempting to enjoy life as an island, with no complicated encumbrances, you need to stay connected to others. Because sometimes it’s only the eccentric uncle who can break up the fights that flare up between feuding family members. And if there’s one other thing that Brexit has made more likely, it’s the return to an age of disunity and war.
So, cheer up, Britain! You’re a funny eccentric uncle now.
